The Hungry Caterpillar

Here, in Denver, school is almost out for the year.  The end of each school year always causes me to reflect and feel nostalgic about the boys growing up.  This year is especially poignant because Sport is completing elementary school.   He's fine about it, of course, my kids adjust better to these developmental changes than I do.  They embrace the changes while I experience some loss with every change they make.  I didn't know this before I became a parent, didn't know that there would be a trace of sadness with every developmental gain.  I was thrilled when they learned to walk and to talk.  So, I was surprised that after they learned to walk, they used those chubby little toddler legs to walk away from me and when they talked, they disagreed with me, saying "no" at every opportunity.  I had always thought that children becoming independent was a good thing, a desirable outcome.  It was only when I was the parent did I realize that it didn't always feel 100 percent good to have them becoming independent from me.

We've had another developmental milestone here.  Secret Service, the boy who grew so slowly that  he was able to wear the same jacket throughout elementary school, has had a growth spurt in this past year.  A couple of months ago, when we measured him, he announced that as soon as he was taller than me, he'd be in charge.  Although I assured him this wasn't the way it worked, I'm not sure I convinced him.  Even without the hope of running the family, Secret seemed determined to grow.  He kept insisting that he was taller than me and I put up a good fight, even styling my hair to be puffier on top and finding tennis shoes with a platform bottom which gave me some additional height.  However, within the last few weeks, I have come to accept that he is now taller than I am.  On one hand, I know this is good.  On the other hand  . . .

Remember the children's book The Hungry Caterpillar?  When the boys were little, I read it to them countless times.  Only recently, I have decided that it is a metaphor about teenagers.  Currently, my boys eat like that caterpillar - one steak, one bushel of strawberries, one family size bag of pretzels, one entire pizza, one gallon of milk.  And soon, just like the caterpillar in the story, the boys will undergo a metamorphosis and emerge . . .  grown up . . . and then fly away, like that caterpillar turned butterfly did.  And, when that happens, I'll be proud and I'll celebrate, with just a twinge of sadness and tears streaming down my face.